


Cookies

by Mogadorian_Wolf



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: M/M, some cussing in later chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogadorian_Wolf/pseuds/Mogadorian_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine might like making cookies, but he’ll deny it to his grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate Chip

I got the recipe from Sam, not that I’d ever tell. He didn't know what I was going to do with it; he'd just laughed and handed it right over, which was perfectly fine. I didn't want anyone to know what I was up to. Well, besides Five, but it dealt with him.

So that was how I found myself knocking on Five's door in the middle of the night on the three week anniversary of our first date. I'd heard they were a big deal, and I wanted to make sure he knew I remembered. Not that I was ever going to mention where I'd found any of that information.

 

The first date had been a big deal. I’d had this crazy nightmare of Maddie dying again, only it wasn’t just her… It had been me watching everyone I cared about dying in front of me. I couldn’t save them, locked up like I’d been. John had shook his head at me, “What are you waiting for, Nine? We don’t have all that much time. Less than most people even believe they have. Go ask him, before he’s out in that ring like I was.” He shifted to Maddie then to Sandor and back.

It’d spurred me into acting on my attraction for Five, in the middle of the night. He said yes, and I knew I must’ve glowed, but the kiss I gave him must’ve hid it, decently. On the third night he’d asked me about it, and when I told him, his breath had caught. That night was the first time he’d held me. We were up on the rooftop, and he’d told me that we couldn’t let this war separate us like that.

I’d joked about rings and marriage, and he smiled softly, “If that’s what it takes, but I’m going to try my hardest not to let you down, like others.” That was the moment I’d vowed not to let this relationship fall apart, to put every effort into it that I could. Even to go to such embarrassing measures as these.

 

He opened the door and stared at me with sleepy eyes and no shirt, "What's up?"

I held the recipe out like maybe it would explain everything. When he just stared at it blankly, I figured I'd have to do the talking, "You know when we first met, getting in each other's face and I punched you? Sam sort of thought I should make you cookies to make up for it, and I figured… since today was- is! a special day, I'd cave into the suggestion."

He looked up at me with a blank expression, and dread filled me with a brief terror that he still hadn't understood. Then he laughed softly and smiled in that small genuine way that I wondered if he even knew he did it, or what it did to me. "You're going to make a whole batch of-" He squinted at the paper- "Chocolate chip cookies for me?"  
"Well I'd have some too. Of course," I added, pretending to be in dignified, and that made him laugh like I thought it would.

He plucked the paper out of my hand and brushed past me on the way to the kitchen- my kitchen. Three weeks and we were already sharing the same house, our relationship was progressing fast. He stopped by the countertop, leaning over it as he finally set the paper down, "Have you ever made cookies?"

"You haven't?" 

He shot me a look, and I shrugged, "So we're going in blind. That's why we have a recipe. I mean how hard can it be?"

"We need a cup of butter, softened, a cup of white sugar, a cup of packed brown sugar, 2 eggs, 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract, 3 cups of all-purpose flour, a teaspoon of baking soda, 2 teaspoons hot water- why 2 teaspoons?” He reported, and I shrugged, “Let’s just stick with it. They know what they’re doing, right?”

He nodded and continued reading as I gathered supplies; telekinesis was very helpful in a kitchen, “A half teaspoon of salt, 2 cups of semisweet chocolate chips, a cup of chopped walnuts. Got everything?” I nodded, and he looked back down at the book, “Okay, then we preheat the oven to 350 degrees-“ I did that- “And cream together the butter, white sugar, and brown sugar until smooth-“

“How do you cream? Is that like stirring?” I cut in.

He squinted at the paper, “No. There’s a note here. You add the sugar to the butter and gently mash it into the butter with the tines of a fork. Then you stir them together until they’re light and fluffy, make sure to get the mixture on the sides as well.”

“Hmm…. Can you define fluffy?” I muttered staring intently at the mixture I “creamed” it. He peered over my shoulder, “I don’t know. Does it look like a pillow? Oh wait, a cloud would be a better description. Does it look like a cloud?”

I hit him with my elbow, “Stop teasing, and keep reading so you can do your share of the cooking. This was not meant to be a project that I do all on my own.”

He laughed, “I thought that was why I was doing the reading.” Before I could even give an appropriate retort, he continued reading, “Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the vanilla. Dissolve baking soda in hot water- Huh. Maybe that’s why we have such a small amount of hot water. Add it to the batter along with salt. Stir in flour, chocolate chips, and nuts. Drop by large spoonful’s onto ungreased pans. And bake for about 10 minutes.”

“Alright, take care of the baking soda. I think this might be done,” I commanded, and he pressed a kiss to my cheek with a laugh, “Bossy.”

“You like it,” I accused, and he only answered that with a laugh that made my heart skip happily.

We worked silently, occasionally brushing against each other, intent on getting the cookies just right… up until the dough was ready. I peered at it, “Do you think it would be completely terrible if we just had some of the dough before baking it. I’ve heard wonderful things about it. Particularly from ones who’ve tried it.”

“Yeah, I heard you can get sick from it,” Five added, watching as I pulled off a little piece and ate it, making a face at him. When I offered him some, he violently shook his head, but I pursued until he was backed against the counter top and I’d shoved a piece into his mouth.

“See? Tastes good, and now if it makes us sick, we can be sick together, like a happy couple,” I teased him, and he caught my waist kissing me gently, “Cookies in the oven.”  
I pulled back and looked behind me to see the pan drifting into the oven, and the timer setting itself for ten minutes. He pulled me back into a kiss, “Now we don’t have to stop for that. You know, we should do this more often. It’s sweet.”

“We haven’t even had the cookies yet.” I smirked at him, using my height advantage to lean over, putting my hands on either side of him. He smirked back, and floated up to meet me- there was never any reaching on tiptoes for him. Our lips met again, and I knew exactly what he meant by “sweet.” Butterflies probably wouldn’t be too much. Forever more I’d associate cookies with Five’s kisses. I’d only make cookies for Five. This would be our special thing.

The timer went off. I happily cursed, and Five laughed, pulling them out without leaving my side. We scorched our mouths trying to taste them, but the kisses we gave each other to make up for it was so worth it.

"Good anniversary?" I whispered with my arm around Five as he shoved yet another cookie down his mouth. He looked up at me with a smirk. I barely had time to process what he might've been thinking about, before he shoved a cookie into my own mouth.

"Didn't think you'd even notice. Let alone celebrate it," He commented, swallowing the last of his cookie.

I finished mine, before pressing my lips to his, "At the risk of sounding like a complete chick, I always notice when it involves you."

"Even if I answer the door sleepy and shirtless?"


	2. Peanut Butter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five really liked the last batch of cookies they made...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words in parenthesis happens outside of Nine (our beloved narrator)'s view

“No, I’m not going to let you use the tablet to stalk your boyfriend. Now, why don’t you go mope somewhere else? I’m half afraid you’re going to start a fight or try to punch Sam again. Five’ll come back just fine, and then you can yell at him about how careless and stupid it was for him to run off without you to watch his back,” John sighed, fixing me with a hard look. Five was out. I didn’t know where, and apparently, using the tablet to go find my boyfriend was a gross violation of privacy and abuse of power. They didn’t seem to realize that Five couldn’t telepathically scream if the Mogs cornered him, and feeling a scar burning into our ankle would mean we were too late.

“Oh come on Four. You wouldn’t be like this if it was Sarah. Eight can teleport me. Just let me use the tablet, real quick,” I begged- not begged, I never begged- one last time. I’d punch if I thought it would do any good with that stubborn ass.

“What for? I thought we were all here,” Five asked right behind me, making my heart stop. I spun around, pulled him into a tight hug and then promptly decked him, “Where the hell have you been? You could’ve been taken by Mogs, and we wouldn’t have known until it was too late. Are you an idiot, or do you just have a death wish or something? Maybe you’ve forgotten, but you don’t have telepathy to scream at us if you need help!”

Five rubbed his face where I’d hit him and peered around me at Four, “He wanted to use the tablet to stalk me didn’t he?” (John shrugs)

“Hey!” I poked him in the chest, pulling his attention back to me, where it should’ve been, “You were gone with no note, no back up, and Eight had to know where he was teleporting to. The tablet was the best way.”

I folded my arms defensively, and Five gave me a little smile, “You mean you missed me.” I glared at him for phrasing it like that. I was not some chick that couldn’t go five minutes without seeing her boyfriend. He just laughed, putting his arms around me, “I don’t care what anyone else says, you can be incredibly sweet.” There was a bag in his hand, I finally noticed, and he dangled it in front of me, “I didn’t bring anyone else along, because… well… I got us a little present…”

“I do not need to know about that! Get out!” Sam cried from the computer, covering his eyes as if we were going to do something inappropriate right in front of them. That might actually be fun if we got this reaction.

Five laughed and slowly dragged me out of there with his arms around my waist, before I could make a comment to further rile Sam up. Every guy needed a hobby. He paused outside of the lecture hall to whisper in my ear, “Tonight, when everyone’s asleep, meet me back in the kitchen.”

Night seemed to take forever to arrive, and I swore time seemed to have stretched without anyone else realizing it. And when I was forced to crawl into bed and lay still waiting for the last one to fall asleep, I thought I might strangle them to speed it up. It was sheer torture. The second I heard the last drift off, I bolted out of bed and dashed to the kitchen. Five wasn’t there yet, but he wasn’t far behind, looking just as excited and impatient. 

A wide grin was stretched across his face, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt again. I hadn’t bothered putting one on either. The bag was dropped on the countertop as he surged toward me in a breath-taking kiss. He didn’t pull very far away to tell me what was in the bag, “I got a cookbook, just for making cookies. We could make another batch.”  
His eyes seemed to shine in the low light, and my breath was gone again, “Damn.”

I smashed our mouths together again, tangling my hands in his hair, and leaning against the countertop to pull his body close to mine, between my legs. He laughed against my mouth. I pulled a fraction away just to breathlessly answer him. “Cookies sound awesome. Have one in mind?”

My mouth was back on his, so I didn’t fully expect a response. His hands were half way up my back, and he laughed, sounding just as breathless. The way he pulled away made me moan, and he laughed again whispering in my ear, “That totally made it all worth it.” 

I tilted my head back and watched the desire play out in his eyes as he looked at it. He slowly, reluctantly pulled away from me, eyes still locked on my exposed neck as he barely breathed his answer, “Peanut butter. They’re also pretty popular. I thought we’d start with the common ones before exploring the others.”

“More later,” I murmured in agreement, pressing my lips against him one last time, before moving to the oven, “Alright what ingredients will we be needing this time?”  
He flipped through the book, settling on a page, “Alright, here we go. A half cup sugar, a half cup packed brown sugar, a half cup butter at room temp, a half cup peanut butter, an egg, one and a fourth cups of all purpose flour, three-fourths teaspoon baking soda, a half teaspoon of baking powder- really both? I thought they were pretty much the same thing.”

“Apparently they aren’t. Continue,” I told him, telekinetically gathering the ingredients and measuring utensils. 

“And a fourth teaspoon of salt. First we beat the butter until creamy, which it says will be about 2 minutes. Wait. What temp do we heat the oven to? Oh, here it is. Preheat the oven to 375, or 300 for ‘chewier’ cookies. Just go with 375.” I nodded and set the temp, while dumping the butter into a bowl, “And how do we beat? I take it it’s not the same as stirring right?”

Five laughed, “And the lack of time you spend cooking, begins to show through. Marina uses a whisk when it says that, but… here. A mixer will probably work just as well.”

The mixer hovered right beside me, and I took it, paused and really thought about it. I turned and flashed him my sweetest smile, “How about you do this part this time? I’ll read, you cook.”

He laughed but took the mixer from me and turned it on. It didn’t take long for him to turn it back off, and I read on, “Add the sugars and beat for two more minutes. Whoa. Did you know we’re supposed to refrigerate the dough for three hours?”

“Oh… I can think of something fun we can do in that time,” Five suggested, and I grinned at him, “In your bed right?”

He shook his head, but didn’t respond, just turned the mixer on. I watched him, eyes trailing up and down his body, thought about trying to distract him, wondered how focused he could stay if I just started kissing him, running my hands along his body. The mixer stopped, but I didn’t notice right away, until Five moved toward me. I looked up, and he smirked, “Don’t think you can wait for the dough to be done?”

“Oh, I so can. Can you?” I challenged, and he stepped even closer, our chests touching, “Yeah, princess. I wasn’t the one doing the eyeing.”

“Just thinking of how to show a newbie like you the ropes,” I shot back, not wanting to touch the princess comment. That never ended very well. He scowled at me, and then a light came to his eyes. Without touching any of it, he sauntered back to the bowl, “What’s next?”

“Mix in the peanut butter and egg, and vigorously whisk the dry ingredients together- I’ll take care of that,” I volunteered, and we worked side by side, mixing ingredients. I could feel the heat from his skin, even though we weren’t quite touching. He was distracting.

“Next?”

My heart was pounding like some dance song, and I swallowed, “Stir the dry ingredients into the sugar-butter mixture, and then wrap the dough in plastic and refrigerate.”

“Almost done,” he whispered, trapping me between him and the bowl as he stirred in the dry ingredients. I tilted my head back to rest on his shoulder, and notice him swallow. I smirked, and his eyes hardened as he turned his attention to stirring. The perk of not doing most of the cooking was being able to watch him as he did. I wanted to kiss him, distract him, but I wasn’t going to lose this competition.

Finally the dough was done. We didn’t even make it to the room. The couch was comfortable enough. I was glad, I’d moved Sam into an actual room. Five looked up, “How much longer do we have to wait to pop them in the oven?”

“A while,” I muttered, gently kissing his bare skin. He leaned into my touches with a sigh, before rolling over, and capturing my lips. I smiled, and pushed against him, climbing on top. He smiled against mine, and murmured against me, “Cookies again. It should be our symbol. Every single cookie in that book, we have to try and make.”  
I kissed him back fiercely, and sighed with a smile, “Just for you. Always for you.”

We took our time, getting back to the cookies, and I quickly read the last instructions, “Shape the dough into balls about an inch and a fourth think- seriously? They’re going to tell us how precisely big they’re supposed to be?” I was quickly shut up, when Five shoved a bit of the dough into my mouth. He smirked at me, already eating some. I laughed and ate it. We ignored the instructions, just putting them in pulls and onto the trays.

Five read the last part, “Flatten in crisscross patterns with a fork and bake about 9 to 10 minutes.” We used our telekinesis and multiple forks to get the crisscrossing done, and the cookie in the oven. I grinned at him as I used my telekinesis to set the timer again, “Ten minutes of making out?”

“You’re on.” Our bodies tangled up in each other, so easily and natural that it was easy to believe all those cheesy lines of being of one body and soul. I sighed against him, and I hoped that the cookies would wait much longer to beep at us. Of course they didn’t, and we took them out.

“Oh, it says here, we’re supposed to let them cool in their backing sheets before transferring the cookies to a cooling rack.” He laughed, “Where’s the fun in waiting for them to cool? I prefer scorching my mouth and having you kiss it better.”

I laughed and kissed him before hand, “I say we put the cookies in a bag and enjoy them in my room. After a good nap.” I yawned, and he smiled, putting his hands on my hips, “Yours, huh? I thought we were supposed to use mine.”

“Naw we used the couch.” He laughed and we scooped the cookies into a bag before running off to enjoy each other's company.


	3. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cookies make everything better

I bolted straight up from another nightmare: Sandor dying again. It couldn’t seem to leave my mind for very long before it was on me like a starved puppy. It wouldn’t ever leave. I did that. I killed him. Everything that happened was my fault. A royal screw-up that tried to pretend otherwise, that’s what I was and probably ever would be.

I staggered to the bathroom and splashed my face with water. I don’t know why people do that in movies; it never really does anything than make me wet. The face staring back at me seemed like it should belong to someone else. I screwed up so bad, and because I was last in line, everyone else paid the price. It shouldn’t have been that way. Five was right about this all being screwed up. He was wrong about all the rest of it, but he was right about that.

Arms wrapped around my waist as I noted the new face in the mirror. Five gently kissed my shoulder, “Cookies? I’ve heard they make everything better, and we ran out of the last batch.”

I leaned back into him and sighed, “You ate them. I only got a couple of them.”

He smiled against my neck, “That’s what you get for leaving them in my room.”

“It was private,” I protested, and he laughed, “Come on, Nine. Some cookies will make everything better. I promise. You can forget all this.”

I turned around, “I can’t ever forget. You should know that.”

He slowly pulled me out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen, “And if we remain lost in the past, what will become of us? They were monsters for doing this to us. They were monsters for breaking you, for making you cry almost every night.” His eyes were so serious, they seemed to deflect all the light. He looked like he’d go kill whoever was hurting me without a moment’s hesitation if he only knew where to look.

“The Mogs are monsters in any light,” I responded lightening quick, breaking away from him and striding over to open the cookbook. “Sugar cookies.” It’s the first page I open to. We hadn’t had those. “Sounds good. They even have a little recipe for making the frosting beside it.”

Five perked up, “Frosting? Can we start there?”

“Cookies.” I pulled the ingredients out without looking. Five looked at them annoyed and pulled me away from the book, “I’ll tell you what to get. Like the last couple of times. It’s a team effort.”

“I already got the ingredients,” I protested, but he ignored me, “Two and three-fourths cups of-“

“Just read off the directions,” I told him, crankily. “Or I’ll see how long I can pin you on the ceiling.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Would you kiss me while you’re pinning me up there?” His eyes rolled up to the ceiling suggestively. I grabbed handful of flour and threw it at him. He tried to duck away, but it went everywhere. I laughed, and he pinned me against the countertop with his body, kissing me with a strange kind of desperation, “You’re laughing. Means it’s going away. Told ya cookies would fix everything.”

I pulled back, breathless and weightless, “Yeah? We haven’t even started making them yet. Now how about reading me those instructions you were so keen on, and we can fix that.”

“Alright, alright. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.” Check. “Then stir the flour, baking soda and salt together. We’ll come back to them. In another bowl, cream together the margarine- I think that’s basically butter- and two cups of sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then add vanilla. You’re going to need me for this next part. It says to gradually stir in the dry ingredients until just blended.”

“Why do I need you for that?” I scoffed. “I can just dump a little in and then stir. Or if it has to be simultaneously, I could just use that wonderful gift of telekinesis I have.”

He bumped me over, an annoyed smiling flickering over his face, signaling me victory. I grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes plugging in the mixer. My eyes followed him with amusement, “That is so going to wake everybody up.”

“Shut up. I’ll blend, and you- slowly- dump in the other mixture.” I rolled my eyes at him, but obeyed. It was a tedious but luckily quick process, and he gave me a quick kiss afterwards, “There’s for being a good boy.”

I hit him and, after a moment’s consideration, threw a glob of cookie dough at him. It landed right on his shirt. He laughed and scooped it off, eating a bit before shoving the rest of it into my mouth. I laughed through it, and leaned against the counter top, “Are we actually going to bake these or just mess around some more.”

He smiled those eyes of his lighting up, and he leaned in for a gentle, sweet kiss. When he pulled away, it took a long moment for me to open my eyes, hoping he’d come back without me having to ask or say anything. He hovered right over my face, a gentle hand resting against my cheek, “See? I told you cookies make everything better.”

I nodded, dazed and not even sure what I was agreeing to. He just needed to kiss me again. That beautiful smile of appeared on his face again, and I was about to make the move, to taste that smile of his again. He backed away, “Okay, now we just put them in balls and put them in the oven for…” he peered at the recipe. “Eight to ten minutes.”

“He died again. In my dream. He always dies, and I can’t save him. I can’t ever save him. Sometimes- most of the time… I’m the one killing him. I’m the one that sees his last look, hears his last words… He begs me to stop in some of them... This time I was at trial for it. You should’ve seen their faces.” I sneered in disgust as if they were the ones doing something unforgivably wrong. “They hated me. Every single one of them. One by one they… they wanted the death penalty, said there was no coming back from that, from what I did.”

I looked at Five as if he could be the one verdict that said otherwise. He’d put the cookies in the oven when I started talking and now leaned over it, eyes dark in thought. When I didn’t continue, he looked up, and gave me a sheepish smile, “It’s a dream Nine. Those people are only a part of you that can’t let it go. Shows you still have a conscious.”

“You regret it to,” I pressed, and he shook his head, “Not as much as I should.” He cut me off before I could protest any further, “We have to make some frosting. All sugar cookies have frosting. We’ll need two cups confectioners’ sugar, two tablespoons of butter- softened, two tablespoons of milk, and a half teaspoon vanilla extract. Then we combine them in a bowl, beating on medium until smooth and fluffy. But it says it only makes one cup… we’ll need more won’t we?”

I didn’t want to let go what he had said. Ethan’s death… it haunted him as much as Sandor’s haunted me, but I suppose it was in a slightly different way. I still wanted to reassure him, argue, protest, but I knew it wasn’t up for discussion. It had been an early rule we’d made. If one of us cut of a conversation, then we had to respect it. Kept us from going down dark paths too often, I supposed. This relationship stuff was really more of Johnny’s thing.

“Yeah,” I sighed, and moved to the countertop to start mixing the ingredients, all three in at once. He moved to my side, not touching me for once, just standing there. The cookie timer went off, and he took them out, “We’ll need to let them cool before frosting them. Frosting can melt.”

“Mhmm…” I stared at him in deep consideration for a moment before, dabbing a spot of frosting on his cheek, then the other. He stared at me, like he had no idea what that was for. I looked at him, closer, then shook my head, and rubbed them in little circles. He moved away put I pursued using telekinesis to aid me.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking to see how you’d look with make-up. I distinctly remember you abandoning me to the mercy of Marina when she started working with make-up,” I told him sweetly. His eyes widened in horror, and he quickly pinned me against the countertop with his telekinesis. He was learning. I laughed, and didn’t bother fighting that. A glob of frosting launched itself at him. He stopped it with inches to spare and flung at me.

“You know… I wonder if a midair kiss is really any different than any other kind,” I said softly, done squirming away from him, for now. 

He looked taken back by that. His guard came down; I could see it from the ways his shoulders relaxed in his eyes lightened but not in the fun way. After a moment, he offered me a hand, “We could find out.”

I stepped toward him, and he wrapped his arms around me, lifting us a little ways off the floor, until we were just floating. It was like being in one of those slow dance scenes in a movie. I almost wanted to tease him for it, but when I turned to him, his lips touched mine and that desire all but fled. The taste was so sweet, like some of the frosting had been left there. I might have let out something resembling a moan, but it was more likely Five.

“Ceiling,” I gasped, when I took the moment to break from him. He actually didn’t laugh this time, just gasped, “Really? You’re crazy.”

I grinned at him, “But you love it.”

He gently traced my jaw, and slowly floated toward the ceiling. I reached up, touching it and shifting our gravity. I took advantage of his momentarily disorientation and pinned him, leaning over with him, a knee between his legs to keep my weight off of him. Only our lips touched.

“Whoa. I was not expecting to walk in on this,” Six gaped, Sam was right beside her. I watched as they swiped our cookies and frosted them. Slave labor, I’d to make sure they knew their wages, “Those cookies are ours. I expect every single one of them to be back on that tray when you’re done.”

Six just smirked at me and purposefully took a bite out of the cookie she had frosted.


	4. Oatmeal Scotchies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight wants to make cookies for Marina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end, it steps out of Nine's pov and into third.

I have no idea how our little cookie making made it out, but it did. Six was the main suspect, though I supposed Sam could’ve been on the list. I was secretly plotting their demise- more Six than Sam; Sam occasionally came in handy. Five laughed at some of the ideas but patiently listened to them in the kitchen.

“Hey now. Cookie making is a sacred activity, only for you. We vowed, or are you already forgetting the finer points?” I grilled him, as he just shook his head, happily chowing down on the overly frosted cookies.

Eight came bursting into the kitchen, looking a tad bit desperate. He teleported, right in front of me, arms on either side, “Teach me how to make cookies. I want to surprise Marina.”

“Your girlfriend? Do you know what kind of cookies she likes?” Five butted in, dropping his sacred cookie, and crossing the kitchen to me. He sat down on the countertop so close to me that we were touching, and flashed Eight a territorial glare.

“Having girlfriend problems?” I teased.

Five hit me- luckily without the metal this time, “We weren’t having relationship problems when you made them for me. So shut up.” He turned his attention back to Eight, “There are a surprising amount of different cookies, but we’re saving the exotics. So far we’ve tried chocolate chip, peanut butter, and sugar cookies.”

I choked on that last one, remembering how that went. Sugar cookies were so to blame for this violation of cookie sacredness. Adding frosting might’ve been a mistake- distracted us from guarding the secret. The sweet taste, though… Five smirked at me, trouble spelled in his eyes, “The sugar cookies were my favorite, especially with the frosting.”

“Oatmeal Scotchies!” Eight burst, seeming nervous and eager to break the moment. We weren’t going to just start making out in front of him, though sugar cookies might be pushing the line. Seeing he had both our attention, he took a deep breath, “That’s what I want to make for her. Do you have the recipe, or know it, or anything?”

I leaped off the counter top, crossing the kitchen to pull out my brand new special cookbook, showing it off. Five grinned, happily bragging to Eight, “I got that for him- two cookies back.”

Time was now being measured by cookies. We were such kids. I loved him for it. Eight grinned at us and teleported back over to me, taking the book out of my hand. He eagerly flipped through it. I was tempted to smack him on the back of the head for stealing it, but a pair of arms wrapped around me, calming that impulse, especially after a little kiss on my shoulder, barely noticeable. Five rested his head against my shoulder, such a girl.

“Alright! Let’s get started, cookie experts!” Eight cried, and we pulled apart. I really hated having anyone else in the kitchen when we were making cookies. Five just flashed me a grin like he knew what was going on my head. He had his grumpy moments too, especially if he got the impression that I was flirting with John… or anyone else.

“We need one and a fourth cup of all-purpose flour, one teaspoon of baking soda, a half teaspoon of salt-“ Five started off, but I cut him off with a yelp when Eight started teleporting around the kitchen gathering the ingredients- that was my job. I glared at him, and Five laughed, right behind me, tugging me over to him, and read on, “A half teaspoon of ground cinnamon, one cup or two sticks of butter- softened, three-fourths cup of granulated sugar, three-fourths cup of packed brown sugar, two eggs, one teaspoon of vanilla extract or grated peel of one orange- we’ll stick with the vanilla, three cups of quick or old-fashioned oats- I think we have old-fashioned, and one and two-thirds cup of butterscotch chips.”

I broke the pause, “So am I just going to be held at your side like some princess while we let Eight do all of the cookies or what?” So I was a little cranky, sue me. Five spun me around into his chest and pressed his lips against mine in a lingering kiss. They were warm, and I lost what I was saying under their guidance.

He pulled away with that I’ve-one-upped-you smirk, “Be a good little boy, and I’ll give you more of those.”

“Who says I want them?” I retorted hoarsely, not about to let him have control over me like that, but my gaze strayed, betraying the truth. He grinned triumphantly, and I slid my arm around his waist, slipping my hand into his pocket. Eight yelped, “What next?!”

Five glanced at the cookbook, without changing our position at all- I wondered how far I could push this before Eight ran out with a red face- “Preheat the oven to 375. Then combine flour, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon in a small bowl. Beat butter, sugar, brown sugar, eggs, and vanilla extract in large bowl. Got that?”

Two extra hands had grown out of Eight’s back to help him multitask. I leaned into Five, slipping my other hand into his other pocket. He looked at me with that special look that said he knew exactly what I was doing but was going to play along. His hands slipped into my back pockets. Another yelp escaped Eight, and he squeaked, “Keep reading! I can do more.”

I grinned at Five, and winked, “It sounds like our friend doesn’t actually approve of our relationship.”

Eight let out a hiss, “It’s not that. I just don’t want to be in the kitchen when you two…” He gestured vaguely with two extra arms. Five barely suppressed a laugh, but I gave full in.

“He just does that to rile people up. Trust me, he’s got a little more restraint than that,” Five informed our bright red friend. I’d give him credit, he hadn’t ran out on us yet. Eight took a deep breath, and went back to stirring, “What else? I can grow lots of arms here.”

Five smiled and turned back to the book, tugging me a little closer, “Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in oats and chips. Then put on ungreased pan, tablespoon size. And finally bake in the oven for 7 to 10 minutes.”

Eight shoved the cookies into the oven like they would burn him otherwise. He almost forgot to set the timer in his hurry to get out. I laughed at him, and after a moment, Five started laughing with me, “You really had him freaking out there.”

I smirked at him, “Maybe I wasn’t really playing around.” 

His eyes strayed to my mouth, “Mmm… I know you better than that. You go so far, trying to rile people up, but no further. Nothing personal for anyone else to see.” He paused and looked at the radio I’d hooked up at Marina’s insistence that she needed music as she cooked. A gentle, whimsical smile pulled at his lips. Before I could even wonder, he reached over and turned it on. It had to be the cheesiest love song ever playing. He grinned at me, “Dance with me.”

I lost myself in his dancing eyes for a moment. He took advantage of it, slowly spinning around the kitchen. The moment could’ve stretched on forever, and I don’t think I would’ve mind. For once, I forgot everything else dancing around the kitchen with the world reflected in the most positive light, shining in Five’s eyes. 

The timer went off, spoiling the moment. Eight popped in, peeking hesitantly between his fingers. When he saw we’d only been dancing, he let his hand drop with a smile, “See, that’s cute. I’m okay with that. Why don’t you do that around us, instead?”

I flashed him a barbed smile, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He pulled the cookies out, and Five and I were right there snagging them before Eight could wrap them all up for his future bride. He glared at us, and I just smiled, “Helpers fee.”

The cookies were carefully wrapped up like they were the most precious thing in the world. I nudged Five, “Are you sure he’s not having girlfriend issues?”

Eight glared at us, before teleporting off. We didn’t follow, though the thought did cross my mind. Five was kissing me before I could even suggest it. I melted against him; we didn’t really need to know what was going on between Marina and Eight. A mischievous thought, crossed my mind, and I briefly pulled away, “Wanna know what it’s like kissing on the ceiling?”

“Wanna know what it’s like kissing in midair?” He shot back with a smile, before reclaiming my mouth. I smiled. Yeah, we were good together.

“I’m beginning to think we should just move your guys’ stuff into one room, save us the display,” Six muttered, walking back.

We laughed, and Five just leaned against me. He liked doing that almost as much as he liked just holding me. Moments like this, I knew exactly why Four seemed so content with doing nothing but cuddling with his human girlfriend. I kinda wanted to show mine gory movies, “You know I got a new Resident Evil movie.”

Five grinned, “I’m game.”

[3rd pov. Marina and Eight]

Marina was sitting on the roof, staring at the swelling sun sinking into the red hue before it slumbered for the night. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, and she wished that there was some way that what Ella told her would happen, would just… decide to change its mind.

Eight appeared right beside her with something wrapped in his hands. He looked a little sheepish, but sat beside her, handing her the gift. For the first time since Ella’s prophecy, Marina relaxed, folding her legs around her, and taking the gift, “What is it?”

“Cookies. Oatmeal scotchies to be precise. Nine and Eight gave me the recipe to make them. Thought they might cheer you up. You’ve been down since Ella’s new legacy showed its face.” He didn’t reach out to put an arm around her, just yet. She needed a little time.

Marina looked down at the gift sadly, “She doesn’t think we can win this war. She… she said I would lose you.” 

Eight put his arm around her this time, drawing her close to his chest as she started sobbing, “You won’t ever lose me, Marina. I’ll always be with you, no matter what way the supposed fate would try to separate us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So imagine this happens before they ever go to Florida, and Ella's realized what her dreams really are. It'll piece together why Eight probably still dies in the end.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam expects payment for giving Nine his first cookie recipe

“Did you ever make those cookies I gave you a recipe for? Cause I never got any,” Sam complained while messing with my computer. I was glad he was among the nicest of our lot or I have a feeling he’d figure out how to work those traps and batter me around. Still… getting out of the line of fire seemed like the best move.

He flashed me a grin over his shoulder as if finding my suspicions amusing- I totally blamed Four for instilling this attitude on him and everyone else, “You should make me some. Since, you know, I started you on the path of cookie-making success.”

I gritted my teeth, “They’re for a special occasion. They’re not to be shared just because you want some.”

“Outside of Five, you mean.” He grinned shamelessly at me. “Five can have as many cookies as he wants for whatever reason he gives; he doesn’t even need one to have special cookies. I’m just saying I haven’t pestered you, because I knew-“

“You’re girlfriend stole some of the sugar cookies, and I’m not sure, she didn’t share,” I pointed out, and he shrugged like it didn’t matter, “But they weren’t made especially for me. I wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t made a whole batch for John. Though I was tempted when Eight said you let him make some that he gave to Marina.”

I glared at him. Four was a special case. Everyone knew that. He just grinned, “Go find your boyfriend. I’m sure he’d love to make cookies with you. Just keep your clothes on.”  
“We always keep our clothes on in public spaces,” I told him with a straight face. “It doesn’t mean we don’t know how to get on.”

He chocked, wide eyed, “I did not need to know that.”

I flipped off, for good measure before confidently striding out. For some reason I found myself in the kitchen, watching Five flip through our cookie book. Sam must’ve turned him as well. I couldn’t find it in me to hate at that moment. He turned and spotted me, giving me a smile, “I say we start our own cookie business. Forget the world and just move to some remote location and cook. You and me fighting the world with cookie love.”

The look was in his eye again: the one that said he was losing hope. I crossed the kitchen to put my arms around him, “We’re going to make it through it just fine. Keep your chin up. Now what was that you said about cookies making everything better?”

He smiled at me, appreciating my efforts before resting his head against my shoulder, “How do oatmeal raisin cookies sound?”

“Did Sam put you up to this?” I demanded, less harshly than maybe I should’ve or even would’ve if it had been someone else. So Five melted my heart; he made me a big softie. Wasn’t that what a boyfriend did? He gave me a smile that said he was calming down. I rested my head on top of his, “See? Even just the thought of them is calming you down. I think you were on to something.”

“He asked me to help coerce you into making cookies for him. I didn’t see any harm in it. He’s the relationship advice expert. It’s best to keep in his good graces.”

“I thought that was Four,” I noted dryly, and he laughed, gently kissing me. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining happily again, “Four’s just gives the encouragement advice, the seeing it from a different perspective for getting into a relationship. Sam gives the actual helpful advice if you’re already in a relationship. So oatmeal raisin?”

It didn’t take any more convincing than that, but he added another kiss to it as well, not that I was complaining. I nodded, moving to the book, “Oatmeal raisin sounds good with the usual helper fee. You gonna stick around from them?”

“Always,” he promised right behind me, and there was so much more promise in that word. I almost leaned back against him, but cookies were calling our name. 

I swallowed, “Then let’s get started. We need a half cup and six tablespoons of softened butter, three-fourths cup of firmly packed brown sugar, a half cup of granulated sugar, two eggs, one teaspoon of vanilla, one and a half cups of all-purpose flour, a teaspoon of baking soda, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, a half teaspoon of salt- but that’s optional so scratch that- three cups of uncooked oats, and one cup of raisins. And heat the oven to 350.” I reached over and did that for him. Our eyes met, and he smiled, but didn’t say a word. Something really was on his mind.

He looked down at the ingredients, “Keep reading.”

Sometimes I hated that rule, but I read on, “Beat butter, sugar, and brown sugar on medium speed until creamy.” The electric mixer buzzed in the air as he went to work. I watched him, studied him, trying to figure on what he was stuck on this time. The mixer shut off, and he looked at me expectantly.

“You aren’t going to lose me.” He inched over and looked down at the book to read the next step. I lifted his chin up and, in the most out of character moment, kissed him as sweetly as I could. In that kiss I tried to convey how much I did care about him and that this wasn’t going to go away.

He leaned into me, and I looped my arms around his waist. This was okay. We were okay, and we were going to remain that way. I- we could hold on to this without it falling apart. A throat cleared, breaking us up. My face burned. That was only meant for Five.

“Aren’t you making cookies,” Sam kindly reminded us, perched on top of the far counter top. I wanted to strangle him, but Five flashed him a strained smile, “Making cookies about more than just making them; it’s a bonding moment between us, to intimate to just be observed like that.”

Sam gave him an easy smile and hopped back down from the countertop, “Fair enough.”

He left the room, and Five motioned for me to continue reading. His eyes were shining again with that invisible smile on his face. I grinned back and read on, “Add eggs and vanilla, and beat well.” The mixer hummed again, and I dared make my way over to him to put my hands around his waist. He grinned at me over his shoulder before turning back to the bowl. I gently rested my chin on that same shoulder and floated the cookbook over so we could both see it.

The mixer turned off, and he looked up, studying the next step. There was no need for me to pay any more attention to the recipe. I turned it all on my boyfriend. He seemed more content now, with me holding him like this. It reminded me of the way he’d held me so tightly after Four almost died trying to save me and how it had calmed me down. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until he gave it to me. Maybe it was the same for him.

I gently kissed his neck when he set the mixer down, down with the mixing of the dough. He shivered and tried to squirm away, making me laugh against his skin. I slid my hands under his shirt, not really wandering, just clasping them on his stomach. I felt like such a house wife. He leaned against me, holding a little ball of dough to me. I happily ate it from his fingers and fed him his own ball of dough. He gently took it off my fingers with his mouth and grinned at me.

“And now we’re married,” he teased. I laughed, feeling like I could fly. We quickly put the cookies in the oven for the eight to ten minutes. The moment they were in, the music turned on, and Five gave me a shy smile, “Want to dance again?”

I rolled my eyes, but gave him my hand, and he took me of the ground as we glided around the kitchen in something resembling a dance. The look in his eyes took my breath away, and he slid in closer to me, whispering in my ear, “You ever think about getting married?”

“We haven’t even been together for a year,” I whispered back, amused. He didn’t need to know that my heart had skipped a beat at that and at the way he laughed softly at my response.

“I’m not talking about us. Just getting married in general. People always talk about it like it’s just going to happen to them eventually, and for so long… I thought I wouldn’t ever get there, and then you swept me up. Now I’m thinking that maybe, someday in the future, marriage will be on the table for me, and I started trying to imagine it, trying to imagine what I would want it to be like.”

It was like all those secrets we whispered to each other in the dead of night, the things we would never tell anybody else. My heart was simultaneously speeding up and breaking. I’d never really thought of getting married; I hadn’t really thought a whole lot about life after the war, just that I wanted to spend it with Five.

My breath trembled as I struggled to reply. The timer went off, saving me from having to tell him I hadn’t thought about it, and we broke up, going to take them out. Sam walked in, like he had some six sense of when condition the cookies were in. We still managed to steal a couple before he took them. He rolled his eyes at us, “You two are gonna get sick and fat if you keep eating cookies like that.”

I flipped him off, and Five stuck his tongue out at him, but he already had his back to us as he walked out of the kitchen with his prize. Our eyes met again, and I grinned at Five, my heart speeding up as I knew the perfect thing to say, “Want to go plan an imaginary wedding?”


	6. Oatmeal Raisin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam expects payment for giving Nine his first cookie recipe

“Did you ever make those cookies I gave you a recipe for? Cause I never got any,” Sam complained while messing with my computer. I was glad he was among the nicest of our lot or I have a feeling he’d figure out how to work those traps and batter me around. Still… getting out of the line of fire seemed like the best move.

He flashed me a grin over his shoulder as if finding my suspicions amusing- I totally blamed Four for instilling this attitude on him and everyone else, “You should make me some. Since, you know, I started you on the path of cookie-making success.”

I gritted my teeth, “They’re for a special occasion. They’re not to be shared just because you want some.”

“Outside of Five, you mean.” He grinned shamelessly at me. “Five can have as many cookies as he wants for whatever reason he gives; he doesn’t even need one to have special cookies. I’m just saying I haven’t pestered you, because I knew-“

“You’re girlfriend stole some of the sugar cookies, and I’m not sure, she didn’t share,” I pointed out, and he shrugged like it didn’t matter, “But they weren’t made especially for me. I wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t made a whole batch for John. Though I was tempted when Eight said you let him make some that he gave to Marina.”

I glared at him. Four was a special case. Everyone knew that. He just grinned, “Go find your boyfriend. I’m sure he’d love to make cookies with you. Just keep your clothes on.”  
“We always keep our clothes on in public spaces,” I told him with a straight face. “It doesn’t mean we don’t know how to get on.”

He chocked, wide eyed, “I did not need to know that.”

I flipped off, for good measure before confidently striding out. For some reason I found myself in the kitchen, watching Five flip through our cookie book. Sam must’ve turned him as well. I couldn’t find it in me to hate at that moment. He turned and spotted me, giving me a smile, “I say we start our own cookie business. Forget the world and just move to some remote location and cook. You and me fighting the world with cookie love.”

The look was in his eye again: the one that said he was losing hope. I crossed the kitchen to put my arms around him, “We’re going to make it through it just fine. Keep your chin up. Now what was that you said about cookies making everything better?”

He smiled at me, appreciating my efforts before resting his head against my shoulder, “How do oatmeal raisin cookies sound?”

“Did Sam put you up to this?” I demanded, less harshly than maybe I should’ve or even would’ve if it had been someone else. So Five melted my heart; he made me a big softie. Wasn’t that what a boyfriend did? He gave me a smile that said he was calming down. I rested my head on top of his, “See? Even just the thought of them is calming you down. I think you were on to something.”

“He asked me to help coerce you into making cookies for him. I didn’t see any harm in it. He’s the relationship advice expert. It’s best to keep in his good graces.”

“I thought that was Four,” I noted dryly, and he laughed, gently kissing me. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining happily again, “Four’s just gives the encouragement advice, the seeing it from a different perspective for getting into a relationship. Sam gives the actual helpful advice if you’re already in a relationship. So oatmeal raisin?”

It didn’t take any more convincing than that, but he added another kiss to it as well, not that I was complaining. I nodded, moving to the book, “Oatmeal raisin sounds good with the usual helper fee. You gonna stick around from them?”

“Always,” he promised right behind me, and there was so much more promise in that word. I almost leaned back against him, but cookies were calling our name. 

I swallowed, “Then let’s get started. We need a half cup and six tablespoons of softened butter, three-fourths cup of firmly packed brown sugar, a half cup of granulated sugar, two eggs, one teaspoon of vanilla, one and a half cups of all-purpose flour, a teaspoon of baking soda, a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, a half teaspoon of salt- but that’s optional so scratch that- three cups of uncooked oats, and one cup of raisins. And heat the oven to 350.” I reached over and did that for him. Our eyes met, and he smiled, but didn’t say a word. Something really was on his mind.

He looked down at the ingredients, “Keep reading.”

Sometimes I hated that rule, but I read on, “Beat butter, sugar, and brown sugar on medium speed until creamy.” The electric mixer buzzed in the air as he went to work. I watched him, studied him, trying to figure on what he was stuck on this time. The mixer shut off, and he looked at me expectantly.

“You aren’t going to lose me.” He inched over and looked down at the book to read the next step. I lifted his chin up and, in the most out of character moment, kissed him as sweetly as I could. In that kiss I tried to convey how much I did care about him and that this wasn’t going to go away.

He leaned into me, and I looped my arms around his waist. This was okay. We were okay, and we were going to remain that way. I- we could hold on to this without it falling apart. A throat cleared, breaking us up. My face burned. That was only meant for Five.

“Aren’t you making cookies,” Sam kindly reminded us, perched on top of the far counter top. I wanted to strangle him, but Five flashed him a strained smile, “Making cookies about more than just making them; it’s a bonding moment between us, to intimate to just be observed like that.”

Sam gave him an easy smile and hopped back down from the countertop, “Fair enough.”

He left the room, and Five motioned for me to continue reading. His eyes were shining again with that invisible smile on his face. I grinned back and read on, “Add eggs and vanilla, and beat well.” The mixer hummed again, and I dared make my way over to him to put my hands around his waist. He grinned at me over his shoulder before turning back to the bowl. I gently rested my chin on that same shoulder and floated the cookbook over so we could both see it.

The mixer turned off, and he looked up, studying the next step. There was no need for me to pay any more attention to the recipe. I turned it all on my boyfriend. He seemed more content now, with me holding him like this. It reminded me of the way he’d held me so tightly after Four almost died trying to save me and how it had calmed me down. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until he gave it to me. Maybe it was the same for him.

I gently kissed his neck when he set the mixer down, down with the mixing of the dough. He shivered and tried to squirm away, making me laugh against his skin. I slid my hands under his shirt, not really wandering, just clasping them on his stomach. I felt like such a house wife. He leaned against me, holding a little ball of dough to me. I happily ate it from his fingers and fed him his own ball of dough. He gently took it off my fingers with his mouth and grinned at me.

“And now we’re married,” he teased. I laughed, feeling like I could fly. We quickly put the cookies in the oven for the eight to ten minutes. The moment they were in, the music turned on, and Five gave me a shy smile, “Want to dance again?”

I rolled my eyes, but gave him my hand, and he took me of the ground as we glided around the kitchen in something resembling a dance. The look in his eyes took my breath away, and he slid in closer to me, whispering in my ear, “You ever think about getting married?”

“We haven’t even been together for a year,” I whispered back, amused. He didn’t need to know that my heart had skipped a beat at that and at the way he laughed softly at my response.

“I’m not talking about us. Just getting married in general. People always talk about it like it’s just going to happen to them eventually, and for so long… I thought I wouldn’t ever get there, and then you swept me up. Now I’m thinking that maybe, someday in the future, marriage will be on the table for me, and I started trying to imagine it, trying to imagine what I would want it to be like.”

It was like all those secrets we whispered to each other in the dead of night, the things we would never tell anybody else. My heart was simultaneously speeding up and breaking. I’d never really thought of getting married; I hadn’t really thought a whole lot about life after the war, just that I wanted to spend it with Five.

My breath trembled as I struggled to reply. The timer went off, saving me from having to tell him I hadn’t thought about it, and we broke up, going to take them out. Sam walked in, like he had some six sense of when condition the cookies were in. We still managed to steal a couple before he took them. He rolled his eyes at us, “You two are gonna get sick and fat if you keep eating cookies like that.”

I flipped him off, and Five stuck his tongue out at him, but he already had his back to us as he walked out of the kitchen with his prize. Our eyes met again, and I grinned at Five, my heart speeding up as I knew the perfect thing to say, “Want to go plan an imaginary wedding?”


	7. No bake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nine has to apologize to Marina

Apparently I was a god when it came to making cookies. Eight had seriously been spreading that word around, especially to his “perfect” girlfriend. Five was so much better. Marina, apparently, translated my cookie making godness into cooking in general. I had the misfortune of being in the kitchen, nursing a black eye, while she was starting on dinner. Both healers were perfectly content to let me suffer; I had to learn my lesson, somehow. I mean, who knew the nerd could punch so well?

 

Sam had been working in the lecture hall again, and I had a strong reason to suspect that he was the reason our cookie business had bloomed from private to public. So I made an innocent comment about him being a backstabbing little snitch that couldn’t keep his mouth shut on private affairs. And he decked me. I might’ve cussed a little bit before asking him how the hell he managed to have such a good arm for a nerd.

Five had laughed at me, cradling me and my injured eye, “You have been giving him bonus fighting lessons to, and I quote, ‘make him tougher.’ It had to come out somewhere.” I guess I shouldn’t have expected any support from my amazing boyfriend, just because I punched him on one of our first meetings. He needed to stop holding a grudge. I’d let it go. 

 

And that’s how I ended up way too close to the kitchen when Marina was pulling out all the recipes for our vegetarian meal. I should’ve gotten out of there as quick as I could, but it wouldn’t be that bad to add a little meat into our meal. She’d never even notice. It just took careful timing. I watched as our live in cook, dumped a bunch of unidentified ingredients into a bowl and dropped the bowl down in front of me as if I were only here to serve her whims, “Stir that.”

Was she serious? She turned away from me continuing on with her meal preparations like maybe she was. I just sat there, until she turned around and saw I hadn’t done anything. She gave me a hard look, not a glare- Marina hadn’t worked her way up to actually being able to glare. I pointed to my ice packed eye very calmly, reminding her in case for some bizarre reason she had forgotten or was otherwise impaired, “Black eye.”

The look she gave me for that reminded me a lot of those looks Six gave me before having me struck by lightning. I barely managed to keep from shivering at that thought. Six had been teaching this girl her moves, but I would not be intimidated by a healer. If she tried to remedy my protestation, I would take off for Five’s room.

Instead she just sighed, and her shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Way to make me feel like a jerk, Marina. I’m sure Eight will just love me now. Her eyes looked at me like a hit puppy, “I do most of the cooking, and I know you like cooking. You do it all the time with Five.”

I bristled at that. Five was special. It was annoying when someone else was cooking with us. She probably didn’t realize that I almost decked her boyfriend for doing it. I put my feet on the stool next to me and leaned back against the countertop, the image of I-care-not, “So? You’re a princess. Go get your amazing prince to rescue you from the kitchen. He wouldn’t mind. But I. Don’t. Cook. Cookies are a side project that doesn’t involve cooking whatsoever.”

A little noise escaped her throat, “I’m not a princess in need of rescuing! I can keep up with you guys in the lecture hall. It just wouldn’t hurt to have a little bit of help in the kitchen, and you’re always complaining about the vegetarian meals.”

For one terrible moment, I thought she was going to cry, but she stayed together. The spoon in the bowl in front of me got up and mixed the ingredients together itself. See? She didn’t need my help. She was doing just fine on her own. And okay, so maybe I was a little hard on her about the no meat kind of thing, but I just wouldn’t say anything tonight.

“With an attitude like that it’s amazing you ever attracted anyone,” Six scoffed, and I looked up to see her leaning against the doorway, scowling at me. “You’re such an ass. Go apologize to her, and help her in the kitchen like she asked.”

She stalked off, without waiting for a reply. I still muttered it under my breath, “She didn’t ask. She demanded.”

I rolled my eyes and got to my feet anyway, moving into the kitchen with the princess. Where was my own prince? Not like I was a princess or anything.

“So in return I get to choose a dish?” I checked. It was never mentioned, but sometimes you just had to read between the lines, really hard. Marina looked up at me startled, and I continued on like she’d agreed, “Something meaty never killed anyone. There’s just one problem; I still have a black eye.”

She smiled at me, before healing me up. I actually cooked something without Five, and it didn’t taste bad. Still, during dinner, I stayed leaning against him, acting like the perfect couple. It was so quite at the table, like we all realized how screwed up we were.

 

I started making cookies after everyone had scattered off. It was a new recipe and, I hoped, very chocolaty. Girls liked chocolate, right? It’d make the perfect apology. Five laughed at me and looped one arm around my waist, “What are these for?”

“Six told me to apologize to Marina.”

He gently traced a curve down the side of my face, “And tell me again, why you think cookies are the perfect apology? Actually, the better question is why have you suddenly turned into Mr. Good Boy when Six says something?”

He dipped a finger into the dough I was mixing up. I didn’t bat his hand away or try any for myself. It was a tense subject. I was tempted to push it off, but it was out before I could think about it, “Ever been hit by lightning? It’s not fun. You only make that mistake, once. And she can summoned storms inside as well. How does it taste? I’m doing it wrong, aren’t I?” The cookie dough looked a little weird but passable for dough.

Five was tense around me, like he hadn’t heard me asking about the cookies. He was always so on top of the recipe. After a moment, he pulled the hand still resting against my cheek away. His voice was soft, but I knew it could go to a growl in a moment, “She hurt you.”

“The cookies?” I asked again, and I could see his face tighten with that same struggle I had early when he shut me out. After a moment, and a couple deep breaths, he let it go, “I’ll kill her later.” He paused to read the recipe over, “It’s supposed to be cooked on the stove.”

“But it’s a cookie. Cookies are baked in the over,” I argued, exasperated that he was seeing the same thing I had.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s a no-bake cookie. Right in the title, it clearly states that you don’t bake it. You know what? Move over, I’ll give it a shot.” He bumped me out of the way easily enough. I already had all the ingredients out for him and gave my mixture a taste.

“Okay. So we put the sugar, and the milk, and the butter, and the cocoa all into the saucepan to boil,” He read and did simultaneously. I smirked. It was time to play my favorite game: how distracted could I get Five.

He stared at the mixture intently, and I slid my arms around him and up underneath his shirt, “Are you just going to watch it boil. I’ve heard it doesn’t boil when you watch it.” My mouth was right against his ear, and I could feel him shiver.

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to stir it,” he whispered, even as he leaned against me. There wasn’t a spark in his eyes like I wanted. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m not going to let her hurt you like that, Nine. We’re supposed to be a team.”

He wasn’t dropping it. I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up. He’d be so vulnerable to her, unless he had one of his little rubber balls in time; he hadn’t been as vulnerable to me as I had first thought. I kissed the side of his neck to make it better. My heart was in my throat. Oh, geez. I really did care about him, more than I ever did about Maddie, or… anyone else.

“Cookies make everything better, right?” I hated how fragile I suddenly sounded, like just because he was sad, I was sliding down with him. He gave me a little smile and put a hand around the back of my neck to pull my lips down to his. That was better. It was just cookie sweet and perfect.

He pulled away after a long lingering moment and smiled at me, “I’ll focus on the cookies now and leave the subject of a sadistic Six who hurts my amazing boyfriend alone. They’ll be plenty to talk about after she’s dead. Besides, I think it’s boiling.”

“It says to let cook for one and a half minutes before removing from heat,” I read helpfully. He nodded and let his telekinesis prepare the tray as he leaned against the countertop watching. It was… a beautiful sight. For a moment I could pretend he was an angel. Neither of us were, but sometimes I liked pretending, imagining him with wings spread out behind him, half naked…

He grinned at me, catching me. I glanced at the pot, “It’s done. Now stir in peanut butter, oats, and vanilla before putting it on the wax paper to cool.”

For a moment, he looked like he might tell me to do it or worse bring Six back up, but he moved, pulling the pot off the burner and stirring in the extra ingredients. I kissed my angel’s neck before whispering in his ear, “You know… I wonder what you’d look like with wings.”

With the cookies cooling, it was on. He roughly captured my lips as he pursued me to the countertop. There was a strange desperation in it that I slid into. He was mine, and I was his. Our broken glass had started to meld into something that resembled a heart beating as one. I wanted to hold onto that, because for a moment I felt it, I could see it. There was no bad, apocalyptic future for us.

“I will post a rule of no PDA if you two keep it up. I swear every time I look you two are halfway under each other’s clothes,” Six grumbled. I pulled away to stare at her, innocently, “Are you always hanging around waiting for the perfect moment to comment?”

Five’s grip tightened at me, and I knew he was glaring at her with that hatred that he’d once used against someone he cared about. Six looked between us and snorted, “You just do it so often it isn’t hard to walk in on you two. Take it to the bedroom. It’s not a pretty sight for anyone.”

She walked off, and I gripped Five tightly to keep him from going after her, “Think of something else. Maybe what movie to watch. I don’t want to sleep at all tonight, and I want you to help keep me up.”  
He looked at me, and nodded, moving to the movie rack with me tied to his side. It had to be an hour later before someone interrupted us, with a soft voice that I knew, “You know, I always think you guys look so cute together. I’m glad you two stopped hitting each other and finally realized how much you were alike.”

I spun away from Five’s side, “Marina! I made you apology cookies. You know since I apparently said something questionable in niceness, and Six suggested I apologize. Cookies are a perfect way of saying that. You like chocolate, right?” She followed me into the kitchen as I gestured to the pan of her treats, all formal like, “We haven’t even eaten any.”

“Actually, I made them! He screwed up the recipe first time round,” Five corrected, settling on the couch, after putting in the first movie of his choice. He’d actually chosen some really childish movies, claiming that a marathon of those would give me sweet dreams as he watched over me like some dream catcher.

“Shut up! I’m apologizing,” I called back, before sweetly turning my attention back to Marina, who seemed a bit awed by my amazing cookie making skills being set before but was already putting her cookies onto a plate, “He just took over. We good?”

She smiled at me with her eyes sparkling. There were days I wished she was my type. She just laughed at me and picked up her plate of cookies, “Yeah, we’re good. You guys have fun with whatever you’re going to watch. I’m star gazing with Eight.”

I watched her take a bite out of one of the cookies as she sashayed out of the room. We were doing nothing productive this evening. It was kind of nice. And when I climbed back on the couch, pulling Five into me as the movie started, a pang went through my chest. I kind of wished for it to be like this more often. I longed for those dream futures Five talked about.


	8. Macadamia Nut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five challenges Six to a cookie making contest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted the Monday following thanksgiving. Adam and Rex will finally show up!

Six was really mad at me for some reason. We were all on the roof for a little star-gazing. Four was convinced that we should be able to find our home in the sky. All I said was that I thought she was putting up a no PDA sign, when Sam put a casual arm around her… and she threatened to strike me with lightening. The sky was getting a little too cloudy for comfort.

Five got to his feet and glared at Six. I got ready to run intervention. She was not going to hurt my boyfriend- “I challenge you to a cookie making contest. If we win, you leave my boyfriend alone. If you win, we won’t make any comments insinuating what you and Sam may or may not be doing outside of our view.”

That was not what I was expecting.

Six put her hand out, sealing the deal, “Fine. But since you have Nine, I get Marina.”

Marina looked up with a soft smile, “Sounds fun. What cookie are we making?”

“Macadamia nut,” Five replied simply. It sounded like he’d had this all planned out. I was so going to have to dump him. He looped an arm around my shoulders and grinned at the others, “Everyone is invited to the final results. Your votes determine our fate. I would hate for anything terrible to happen.”

“Hey! You’re poisoning the judge base,” Six protested, looking ready to storm down destruction. I took off, right for Five’s room. It wasn’t fair. Cookies were our thing. We weren’t supposed to share. How did it get so far away from that?

Five closed the door behind him. I refused to give him more than that cursory glance. My heart for some reason felt like it was broken with half of it deciding it was going to try flying now. I felt like such a girl. “This cooking making thing has really gotten out of hand. It was supposed to be our thing- no one else.”

He sighed, and I could sense him moving across the room. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he gently kissed my shoulders and neck, trying to make it up to me, silently pleading for me to forgive him, “I know. I just couldn’t stand her threatening you like that. I’m your boyfriend; I won’t to be able to protect you from people who want to hurt you. I’m allowed to care and be a little overprotective, right? You tried to use the tablet to find me when I went out shopping.”

I leaned back into him, taking it in with a little nod. He kissed my cheek with a little smile, “And cookies are something I know. We’re going to win it, and then she’ll be the one having to apologize. It’s better this way then getting struck by lightning, right? I know that hurts.”

He hadn’t gotten struck- that I knew of. I went still, “When’d you get struck by lightning?”

“A while ago. I kind of… um… punched her with a metal fist when she said you were a wild card that couldn’t play well with others,” He coughed out, and I was torn between wanting to laugh and tear Six to pieces.

“You call me that sometimes.”

His arms tightened around me, “Yeah, well she’s not allowed to.”

“And she electrocuted you? For trying to defend my honor?” I asked, testing it out. He looked at me warily, “Yeah… why?”

I pushed away from him, my shirt already discarded somewhere in the room, and strode confidently for the door; I could do this shirtless. Nothing anybody hadn’t seen before. I threw open the door and casually threw my response over my shoulder, “Cause I’m going to kick that girl’s ass. No one hurts my boyfriend but me. You’re going down Six!”

Six looked up at me with an unimpressed look from over the countertop. Poor Marina was doing all the work. We should just win by default. Five slung an arm around my shoulder with a laugh, “Looks like the games are good to go. There’s no way in hell you’re going to win.”

“Our cookies are already in the oven,” Six shot back with a smirk, sizing us up like we were gum on her boot- disgusting and needing taken care of.

“Ain’t over until the fat lady sings. And I totally call cheating; Marina’s doing all the work. You see that, right Four?” I called out, and John laughed from the other side of the room. The others had joined him, pretending like they weren’t paying any attention to the drama playing out in front of them. Eh, denial- what can you do about it?

I shooed the girls out of the kitchen, “Out of the kitchen, ladies; it’s time for the boys to rock the show. We’ll show you how it’s done.” Five grinned at me, with a soft agreement, “We got this.”

“If you burn our cookies on purpose, I will string you up to high not even your boyfriend can fetch you,” Six warned me, while Marina stepped out of the space willingly. I just grinned at her. She was going to be thrown to the Mog beasts next time we got into a real battle. Maybe they’d even be kind enough to eat her before they were demolished.

They tried to pretend they weren’t watching us as we moved in sync with each other, but they totally were. It threw me off my game. Five put his arms around me and kissed my cheek, before reading, “We need a cup of softened butter, three-fourths cup of packed light brown sugar, a half cup of white sugar, two eggs, half a teaspoon of vanilla extract, half a teaspoon almond extract, two and a half cups of all-purpose flour, one teaspoon of baking soda, a half teaspoon of salt, one cup of chopped macadamia nuts, and on cup of chopped white chocolate.”

He kissed me sweetly again, whispering against my cheek, “It’s going to be fine. We can just pretend they’re not there.”

“But they are, and they’re staring at us. Have I mentioned how sacred cookie making is? And they’re just standing there watching us, seeing our moment. Six totally has to die for this. Actually I’ve been plotting her murder since we left the room,” I whispered back as he checked the temp of the oven. There was a slight smile on his face.

“Cream the butter, brown sugar, and white sugar together until smooth. Do you want me to do that, while you continue to just stare at me?” He teased, softly. His voice was pitched only to reach me, but that soft, heart-melting smile of his could be seen by the others. I kissed it away. That smile was only for me.

“I do believe you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself,” I whispered, as I pulled away, breathless. Eight was gone, now, along with most of the crowd. Sam was the only one who was still watching us with an amused smile. I glared at him, just to make sure he got the message. He just grinned wider at me.

Five had moved away from my side to mix the ingredients together as the timer went off. Six strolled back into the kitchen with Marina timidly in tow, and took the cookies out of the oven. I made sure to be extra close to Five when I added the flour, baking soda, and salt gradually into the eggs, vanilla and almond extract mixture. She gave us a look of disgust, “Can’t you two handle a few minutes of keeping your hands off of each other.”

“It comes with budding romance, but I doubt you have any experience with that,” I shot back. “And have fun on the chopping board.”

She glared at us, before hopping onto a stool to watch us, suspiciously. Marina, at least, had the decency to look awkward and unsure of staying in the kitchen with us. When I reached for the macadamia nuts and white chocolate chips, she seemed to reach a decision. She gently patted Six on the shoulder and gave us a reassuring smile, “Don’t take it to personally. I think she’s just jealous that she doesn’t have such a tight and easy relationship.”

Then she left, and it was just Six and Sam staring at us. I stared at them, purposefully as I deliberately scooped a bit of our cookie dough to taste. Five ate it off my fingers before it even reached my mouth. I glared at him, trying to send the mental message that he’d just ruined my whole rebellious show. He just laughed and scooped up some cookie dough on his own to shove in my mouth.  
“We might just win by default if you use all your dough like that,” Six commented. Why was she still around? Seriously. There were tons of awful ways she could’ve died by now, and then we would have someone around to always prod us. What a shame.

Five looped his arm around my waist to keep me from unwisely launching myself at our fellow Garde. Sam was tolerable compared to her, and there were days when I really despised his existence, particularly when he was meddling in our affairs. 

“I think your cookies are ready to be sampled,” Five told Six, before whispering in my ear, “Cool it. Good revenge takes careful planning. Rushing in with a hot head only ends tragically. I believe you taught me that one.”

“Maybe I won’t dump you,” I whispered back, eyeing him out of the corner of my eye. He had really changed and grown since he had first shown up here as a naïve and easy to ruffle boy. Then, again, he had changed me as well, perhaps for the better.

He gave me a suspicious look, “I didn’t know you were considering it in the first place.”

I shrugged, “Well, you were egging Six on and sacrificing our cookie making sacredness. It was a necessary train of thought. But don’t worry; you totally made it alright, again.” The cookies were going on the tray. Eight was back, as if instinctively lured by finished cookies. He was the first judge to burn his tongue on the cookies.

“Hot!” He still swallowed his mouthful. “And not as great as I hoped for. I’ll wait for Nine’s cookies to be done, thank you very much.” Burn. Take that Six. One for the boys and zero for the girls.

“It’s a good thing you changed your mind. I don’t think your face could’ve taken it if you hadn’t. I’ve been going easy on you in the training room. I’m a lot stronger than you think,” Five warned me. Judge votes would have to go on hold. This was far more important.

“Easy? You couldn’t beat me if you tried- and using sexual appeal makes any move invalid. It’s strictly fighting,” I warned him. “In fact, how about after this, I can reapprove my prowess after this. We can go to the lecture hall, and I can properly kick your ass and show you who’s stronger.”

He laughed. Cookies in the oven for 10 minutes, and John’s turn to be the cookie judge. He hesitantly tasted one and finished. Five laughed at me, his hands back on my hips as I glared at him. He gave me a chaste kiss, “Oh? It’s not a real fight if you have to put such rules into place. You know you wouldn’t have a chance of winning in an anything goes fight. You wouldn’t be able to keep your mind on anything while I’m-“

“I do not need to know about that! None of us need to know about that!” Sam cried out, rushing to try to break us up. John choked on the cookie, and Six looked unimpressed. Apparently, Sam was still convinced and scandalous that we would do something like that in public. That would be fun to push. How far could we go?

“Cookies!” Ella happily cried, breaking the awkward moment that was arising. She shoved one of the cookies in her mouth and looked over at Six, “Nice cookies. But these aren’t Nine’s. I want some of his.”  
Sam gave Six a shy look as he took one of her cookies. He would have to vote for her, just to make sure he’d still have a girlfriend at the end of the night. One vote against us wouldn’t hurt anything. Another hand reached for a cookie, and I looked at Sarah as she tasted the girls’ batch.

“I wait to see what the cookie master’s taste like,” She commented. Sam grinned at her, “Oh yeah. They’re legendary. I don’t know if it’s Five or Nine that would be more considered the master, but I’ve figured out a secret ingredient that I think they add.”

Okay, apparently he didn’t care about having a girlfriend at the end of the night. Six was glared at him, before turning her lethal gaze on to us. We smirked at her, putting out arms around each other, “It’s not our fault that our reputation precedes us.”

The cookies came out of the oven only a few minutes later, and I didn’t think there was a single soul, besides Six, that didn’t scorch their tongues on them. Obviously we won hands down, and Five put my arms around him, happy to just be in my arms, like I was happy to be in his. My heart was soaring. There was just one other cookie I had to make him before putting the apron up, a really special one. It would mean more than even the first one.

“The cookie masters do not let us down,” Sam proudly stated, and I laughed. He’d gotten us into this. Maybe Four was right about him being so reliable. He’d probably be upset when I told him I wasn’t making anymore cookies, just one special batch for a special occasion.


	9. Turtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam comes back sick and gets the rest of the penthouse sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this one is really long. You can pretend it's to make up for not posting on Friday. The last one will be posted this Friday.

Apparently another set of cookies was destined to be made before then. Adam had returned from his have-to-save-my-own-boyfriend-even-though-he’ll-probably-hate-me-for-it mission with said boyfriend. Rex came in with a sick and injured Adam in his arms and a nervous Dust perched on his shoulder, “Any healers? He’s got hit by a car and somehow has caught a cold as well.”

“Huh. I didn’t know Mogs caught things like that. Aren’t they supposed to be so advance and superior to others?” I commented, not that I didn’t like Adam. Adam was surprisingly tolerant of me. We got along fine on most days. Five snickered.

Marina glared at me as she took Adam out of his boyfriend’s arms, “Be nice.”

Those two had hit it off, forming a trio with Eight. It hadn’t taken long for Adam to fit in like a missing piece of the puzzle in our little army. He got along well with pretty much everybody; the fact that his chimaera started up a relationship with Four’s probably helped. I was, maybe, a little jealous, but I had Five for an amazing boyfriend, so there. And he didn’t run off to work for the other side.

It wasn’t long before the cold swept over the whole penthouse. How does a penthouse with two healers even come down with the cold? Marina was the next one to fall to the cold, though she did managed to fix Adam up; Rex still hadn’t left his side, and he fell to the wrath of a cold quickly. Four went after that, then Eight, Dust, BK, Sam, Six, Sarah, and finally Five. Adam and I were the only ones untouched. So I figured making cookies was a very boyfriendly thing to do, and since I was so nice, I’d share them with all my sick penthouse-mates.

The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I felt Five’s absence even more keenly. This was for him, and once they were done, I’d stay by his side for the rest of the day. He’d been talking about how interesting turtle cookies sound, and while it probably wasn’t the best choice for this I wanted to make him happy. The recipe looked even more complex than anything I’d made.

“What are you doing?” Adam asked, and I glared at him. He wasn’t Five. Only Five was allowed to make cookies with me. Adam just waited patiently for me to answer him. It was that crazy patience that won everybody over. I sighed, giving in, “I’m making cookies. For Five. I thought you were standing watch over your boyfriend.”

He leaned against the countertop, “I am, but someone needs to look after you as well. It’s only a matter of time before you fall sick as well. Besides I need to get my mind off of this, and… other things. Mind if I help you?”

I glared at him again, “Only Five gets to make cookies with me.”

He gave me a soft smile, “He’s sick right now, and I’ll just be here for support.” He was already washing his hands. I turned back to the recipe, and gathered the basic ingredients with my telekinesis- did I really need to make the caramel or could I just use the store bought kind? I didn’t see any reason why not. This was a complex recipe, and truth was, Adam was right; I could use the help. I sighed, giving in, “Fine. Read the recipe. I’ve already got all the ingredients.”

“I can do that,” Adam said easily, moving to the cookie cookbook. I moved to the side, pulling a bowl toward me. Seeing him stand over that cookie cookbook just made me wish Five was all better now. Adam read the recipe, “Toss flour, cocoa powder, backing soda and salt together, and then set aside. Using a mixer with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on high speed until creamy.”

He waited for me to finish with that. My heart kept sinking through the whole thing. I tried to imagine Five’s happy face when he saw that I’d made him the turtle cookies, and tonight, we wouldn’t sleep alone like we so often did. Maybe he’d be happy about that, or maybe apprehensive. It was equally our own fault that we slept in our own beds. There were some things that were still just too hard to share.

“Switch the mixer to medium speed and beat in the granulated sugar and brown sugar until combined- hey do you think Rex would ever want to make cookies like this? I mean I never really thought anything could lure you into actual cooking,” Adam abruptly asked as I mixed. He had a lot of issues to work through- Rex did too, but he just hid it better.

I sighed and turned the mixer off, done with that part of the instruction, “No, I think you’ll have to do all of the cooking when you two get married, and if you’re lucky, you might convince Marina to live nearby to give you the occasional break. Now what’s next.”

He frowned but read on, “Beat in the egg and vanilla extract. Then turn the mixer off, and pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. And I don’t think Rex will marry me. He doesn’t have any problem leaving. You and Five are glued at the hip.” How did this end up being a boyfriend giving advice session? And when did I even become the type to have people think I’d give them good advice?

“You should probably talk to Marina if you want that advice- or John, though I’ve heard Sam is now on the dating advice list. Five and I are… well, we keep the healers in business on our bad days. We aren’t good role models,” I told him, hating how my voice was actually softening as I talked. I loved Five, I really did, but I also knew we were both broken in a way that both made our relationship work, and at the same time a lot harder.

Adam nodded, gaze fixed on the book, “All of which are in heterosexual relationships. That’s the only kind of relationship I’ve seen. Rex is… he’s a fighter like you, fitting in in a society that I can’t understand anymore. I really want it to work, but… sometimes I feel like there’s a chasm between us that I can’t seem to cross. It drives me crazy.” He paused. I’d finished the stirring, but I didn’t have the heart to ask him what was next. There’d been a time or two, I’d felt like that. He looked up at me, after a moment, with a sheepish smile and read on, “Turn the mixer on low and slowly beat until you have very soft dough. Then beat in the milk on medium speed. The dough will be very sticky.”

I missed the dough in silence. It was stifling and wrong. Five was supposed to be here, with his arms around me as I mixed the dough. He was supposed to answer my cooking questions. I took a deep, shaky breath and imagined a far off future where Five would be in the kitchen cooking, and then I would join him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Do you like cooking? I mean, do you think you would?” I abruptly asked Adam, checking the dough. It seemed soft. I added the milk, while Adam seemed to think about my question. After a moment I glanced over to see him gently tracing the edge of the cookie cookbook, lost in thought. “Well? Would you?”

He looked up with deep sadness lurking in his eyes, “Maybe. Here’s the only place I’ve really ever cooked. Talking about the future like this is kind of silly, isn’t it? I mean, we might not even come back from the war. I just need something to hold onto. One used to be here to urge me on, remind me what I was fighting for. Now… I feel like I’m lost all over again.”

“Now what?” He looked at me confused. “The cookies. What do I do now?”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he looked back down at the book, “Cover the dough tightly with aluminum foil or plastic wrap and chill for at least two hours, and yeah, it’s mandatory.”  
I groaned. Why did I chose these cookies again? Two hours was forever without Five here to distract me. It was going to be absolute torture, especially when the house was so lifeless, filled only with the sounds of the sick… and Adam seeking boyfriend relationship advice.

Two hours later of basic silence, I could finally do something. Adam followed me back into the kitchen. He’s taken the cookie cookbook into the living room to look at it. I guess the cookie making legend would have to continue with someone else, though I was kind of thinking that maybe quitting the cookie making business wasn’t for me. Maybe I’d just take the sacredness out of it.

“Nine? Would you mind if I borrowed your cookbook some time? I think I’d like to do some more cooking, just to try it out. Oh, and we’re supposed to let the cookie dough sit for about ten minutes before continuing on.”

I sighed. Of course, there was more waiting. Five just had to want the one that would take the longest to make. I could get everything else ready, though. “Sure. You can work on making the dinner for the invalids as well. What else needs to be done for these things?”

He smiled at my frustration, but read on, “The oven need to be preheated to 350, two baking sheets need to be lined with parchment paper and set aside, and you’ll need a bowl with the chocolate chips and pecan pieces mixed together. Do you ever read the instructions yourself?”

“Only when Five’s doing the cooking,” I replied sharply, getting it all done too soon. Adam nodded and moved over to the other cookbooks that Marina had taken to storing up. He browsed through them, “So what do you think would be a good meal for people with the cold? While we wait, I could get it started.”

I saved him the trouble and pulled out several cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and held it out for him to see, “Chicken noodle soup. You shouldn’t keep the injured waiting, and besides, the best way to start your cooking career is to start small.”

He grinned at me and took the cans from me, pouring them into bowls and heating them up, “Okay, so everybody gets a bowl of soup- do we include crackers or tell them to suck it up?”

I laughed, and as much as I’d want to tell them to suck it up, I knew which one we should do, “Give them some crackers, and we can give everyone a cookie as well. It’ll brighten their spirit.”

He gave me a startled smile, “Yeah, they’d probably like that. You want to get the crackers, then?”

This was a better kind of quite. It still wasn’t like the nice quite that popped up occasionally with Five that was never really noticed, but it was comfortable. Before too much longer, I could continue on with the cookie making process. Adam read on, “Scoop a tablespoon or a little more of dough and roll into a ball before rolling it into the chocolate chip and pecans mixture, and then place onto baking sheet- about ten per sheet.”

This was moving more quickly. Somewhere during the time though, Adam had managed to snap a piece of bread and buttered it. He was eating it now as he watched me work. Surprisingly it didn’t weird me out, and I found it a little easier to talk to him, “Five’s always a little more direct than me. It could work for you- you know, being the one who brings up the subjects. Ask him about what he sees in the future or what he wants. It’s what Five did.”

“I’m being compared to Five. I don’t know if that’s a good sign,” Adam noted dryly.

“It’s a perfect comparison. Our relationship started with him breaking my fist, and yours started when you kidnapped Rex to find out more information to help the Garde. The similarities are astonishing. Now, how long do I bake the cookies?”

“Ten to twelve minutes. So you think I just need to approach him about it? You think maybe he could want something long term?” Adam sounded so uncertain that I almost felt the urge to go shake down his boyfriend and tell him to make Adam feel better. Geez. Adam had really become like the vulnerable, innocent, older sibling that everyone wanted to protect.

I slid the cookies into the oven, before looking him straight in the eye, “If he’s not in for the long term, then I’ll happily through him off the side of the building for you. You deserve a boyfriend who’s in it for the long haul, someone who cares. I mean… you’re too nice to just be with someone who’s only going to hurt you in the end, and I’ll make sure he knows it.”

“Uh, Nine? I know how much you like throwing people off of the roof, but I really don’t want you to throw my boyfriend off of it,” Adam interrupted, tentatively.

“Hey now, I pulled Four back, and Five can fly.” I couldn’t believe he was still giving me crap about that- though it did end with a pretty cool night of flying… and falling- I’d rather forget about that part of it.

Adam’s expression darkened, “Rex can’t fly.”

I grinned at him, “Exactly.”

He didn’t even grace that with a response, just turned back to the cookie cookbook and read out directions I wasn’t even ready for, “When you remove the cookies from the oven, you’ll need to let them cool completely before drizzling warm caramel over them. Then they set for another ten minutes. You’re almost done. And Nine? If you try to kill my boyfriend, I’ll kill yours.” And he went on prepping trays for the invalids. Wow. He really was serious about that.

The timer went off, saving me from the sudden awkwardness that had descended on the room. I rushed to pull them out and start on the instructions Adam had read before he’d threatened me. Sometimes it was best to pretend nothing happened. “So are you going to be the nurse going around handing out the dying their last meal. Be like, ‘oh look! You’re last meal. Well, I hope you enjoy it.’ Or are you going to force me to do it?”

He gave me a dry look as I grinned at him, “That is so not funny. And, for being in the middle of a war, you can have such a grim perspective. It’s the cold; they’ll be just fine.”

“Tell me that when they are,” I shot back, and stared at the cookies. What was it I said to Five a long time ago? Staring just makes them take longer. At least I wouldn’t have to look at Adam while I was doing it though. He sighed in exasperation, as if sensing this thought, and came over to me, “They will be fine. Your boyfriend lived out in islands nobody knew existed with no doctors or healers, and he made it just fine. I’m sure he was sick at least once.”

I glared at him. That felt like too intimate of knowledge for anyone but me to know. Though, I knew he had told everybody about that. On the other hand, I was the only one who knew about Ethan and Emma, so I guess I was at least somewhat special in that regard- more intimate with him than Adam or anyone else who would claim it.

“Hey can we let the cookies cool on the plate, once they have caramel on them? Then I can hand them out, and you don’t have to wait to go get in bed with your boyfriend,” Adam asked. All the trays were already prepared, and he seemed anxious to get a move on it. His boyfriend was sick as well; I guess he wanted to be by his side. In Rex’s favor, he did seem very concerned about Adam when he brought him in injured.

I smiled at him, “Sure. Are you going to get a cart to carry them to our invalids?”

He laughed, “I wish. We don’t have one. Is your telekinesis for rent?”

I lifted all the trays for him in response. He laughed, again. It was good to see him of a little more cheer; he didn’t laugh often enough, and with everyone being sick, that didn’t help matters. He waved for me to put the trays back down, “We need to get the cookies on them before you go floating them over.”

 

3rd pov

Adam settled beside Rex after all the trays had been handed out, besides Five’s. Nine was taking that tray personally. He cared a lot about Five; he just wanted everyone else to think otherwise, Adam knew. He was right though: about just bringing up with Rex. It was the best way to find out how he felt about their future.

Rex smiled softly up at him as he sat up to start on the soup. He paused when he saw the extra plate, “Cookies? You made me cookies? Why?”

“Well, technically Nine made them; I just read the instructions, and everyone got one. That was my idea,” Adam corrected him and gently put a hand over Rex’s. It was harder to bring up than he thought it would be. He faced his own brother in combat, almost died three times, but asking his boyfriend about what he saw for their future was too hard? Adam took a deep breath and just… asked, “What do you think will happen after the war? Where do you think we’ll be?”

Rex paused with the spoon in his mouth, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He took a moment before extracting the spoon, and swallowing. Adam waited the whole time with baited breath and a sinking heart. Rex flopped back against the pillows, “I don’t know, Adam. War’s all I’ve ever known- all we’ve ever known. When it’s over… I think we’ll be lost, and I think they’ll try to hold on to what they have. We… we’ll make it somehow. Cause once it’s over, there’s no going back. I’m giving you everything Adam.” He paused before asking, “What about you?”

Adam grinned at him and laid down beside him, resting his head against Rex’s shoulder, “I want to be with you. I want to see where this road we’re on can take us.” He intertwined their hands, and Rex smiled at him, part relief and part joy. Adam loved the way his eyes were starting to shine for something other than adventure, but maybe this, their relationship, was Rex’s next adventure, one he was going to stick with until the end. It could be something to replace the war he’d grown up with, what they’d both grown up with.

Back to Nine

I pushed Five’s door open, hesitantly. He looked at me, a little smile forming on his face when he recognized me. I set the tray down beside his bed and handed him a cookie before taking one for myself. He grinned, taking a bite of it and sighing in contentment. It made me glade that I had stuck with the cookies, he’d been wanting. He looked at me, really looked at me, “Cookies before soup, huh? Did everyone else get the same treatment or am I just that special?”

“Adam was in the kitchen with me. He did the soup; I did the cookies. You know him, had to make sure everyone was as well treated as our boyfriends,” I muttered, nibbling on my cookie. He laughed before sneezing into a tissue he had on hand. I stared at him, heart aching. I hated when he was sick, even if this was the first time.

“Move over,” I told him, coming to a decision. I put my cookie back on the plate, and he smiled, putting his cookie back on the plate beside mine, forming a broken heart. Together they were whole, just like we were.

I climbed into bed beside him and just held his body as close to mine as I could, “I hate this: feeling helpless. Reminds me of everyone I couldn’t save. Maddie. Sandor… I wish you would just get better.”

“You still think about them?” He asked softly, burying himself further into my chest and letting out a little sigh of content. I didn’t think I wanted to leave his side tonight. He was burning up and so clingy that it just broke my heart even more. I ran a hand through his hair, “Sometimes. I try not to; it’s easier if I don’t. Sometimes, instead, I like to think of what it would be like if the Mogs had never came to Lorien. Imagine us meeting there, growing up together, falling… in love. There wouldn’t be anything to come between us, not a war, like this at any rate.”

He smiled against my chest and tilted his face up to look at me. Looking at me like that, he looked adorable, and I found myself smiling a little. Then he sneezed, and I wrinkled my nose. He laughed at that but sunk further into me, “You’re probably going to get sick, now.”

I settled against the bed to let him basically lay on top of me, “If I haven’t gotten sick yet, I’m not going to.”

He laughed and leaned back to peer into my face, his body pushing against my hand. His eyes looked at me, looking surprisingly content as he whispered something so intimate that I just wanted to lose myself in the moment. This would be what it would be like when we were married. From here, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

“Yeah, that’s what you say now. You won’t be saying that in the morning when you’re sneezing and begging me to hold you.” I shook my head, and he ran his fingers through my hair with that same content smile, “Tell me more about how you imagine our life on Lorien, what it would’ve been like.”

I smiled and started telling him everything I could think of about it, and he would add his own thoughts into it, until we were both laughing and smiling. We were more at peace than ever before, even when he sneezed. I just kissed his forehead. On the plate, the cookies probably shone, whole now, like we were with our souls shining as one. I didn’t leave his side the whole night, for the first time in our relationship. I didn’t even remember when we fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up sneezing.


	10. Cookie Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Five's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! Please don't hate me.

We picked each other’s birthdays. On the run, we never knew our real ones, like we never knew our real names. So I picked his birthday, and he picked mine, putting it on Valentine’s day much to my protest. I put his on October 19, today. Sam told me that it was a harvest moon tonight, where the moon would turn orange and look so big in the sky. I was going to take Five up to the roof. Maybe I was a bit of a romantic, but it was only ever for him. 

I pulled the cookies out of the oven; they were chocolate chip like the first ones we’d made, but they were going to get frosting in the middle. The frosting was already whipped up, and I put blobs on the smooth side of the cookies before smashing them together and putting them on a plate. The book called them cookie sandwiches, and I was eager to share them with Five, especially considering where the frosting had taken us last time.

Everyone else had already gone to bed at my encouragement and a thumbs up from Sam. Adam had just smiled at me, telling me that we would have to bring our boyfriends together and talk about planning weddings. Apparently I’d given him good advice about how to deal with Rex, and now he was even more cool with me, to the point of making Five jealous.

I knocked on Five’s door, taking a deep breath. Tonight it would be just the two of us. It wasn’t like I was going to propose or anything, but it was his first birthday I would get to celebrate. Live on a day to day basis, because at any moment this could all be taken away. He opened the door, peeking out with messed up hair and a packed bag. His eyes brightened when he saw the plate of cookies, while my heart was crashing at the sight of that packed bag he had slung over his shoulder, “What are you doing? Why do you have a packed bag?”

He ignored me, taking one of the cookies with a delighted expression. He took a bite out of it, and sheepishly met my gaze, “What’s up with these? I didn’t know anything special was going on tonight.”  
I frowned, “It’s your birthday; how can you not remember that? I thought we’d go up to the roof and celebrate. Now, what’s. Up. With. The bag?” He would’ve told me if he was doing something big right? That’s what being in relationship meant. Otherwise… I might just tell Adam he can have a stab at killing my hard to kill boyfriend.

He opened the door all the way, staring at the bag as if it were the source of so many problems. I watched as he swallowed and turned back toward me with a sad little smile, “We can talk about it on the roof. It’s got nothing to do with you, I promise.”

“Right.” I had a right to sound sarcastic. He was leaving me and breaking my heart. Our relationship wasn’t supposed to end like this. He saw right through me, but forced a smile as if that could make everything okay. I just wanted to hit him and get this all over with. Instead, he gently took my hand and lead me up to the roof.

The night sky was beautiful; you could see the whole city, but we ate the cookies in silence, that bag hanging over us like death. It took forever for him to even speak about the bag, about leaving me like this, in the middle of the night without a goodbye. I wanted to hate him forever, but somehow he’d managed to take away all that hate at some point. I really wanted to hate him even more for that, but there was just a creeping numbness; this could never have lasted forever- everyone knew that. I just wanted to pretend otherwise.

“I have to leave. This war… I can’t stand it, especially when-“ He took a deep breath, and my stomach roiled. He actually had the nerve to cry when he was leaving. “I was always meant to betray you, Nine, all of you. Everything I told you… it was true, I just left out one crucial detail. The Mogs did succeed on getting me on their side. I was there when they were holding you captive, they showed me the video where… where you killed Sandor. They wanted me to kill; they’d been preparing me for it. I wasn’t supposed to fall so hard for you that the very thought of you being gone makes me feel like I can’t breathe.” Okay, he might be doing a decent job at making me feel a smidge better. It didn’t excuse him leaving me like this.

He looked at me like he knew this, “They want me to cash in on my debt- for sparing my life. They want me to kill you Nine, and… they’ll kill me if I can’t, or worse: they’ll kill you. I can’t do this, any of it. I’m not meant for war, like you are Nine. It makes me feel like I’m losing myself, and I can’t remember who to hate, so hate all of it.” He paused eyes intense and pleading with me. “I wasn’t leaving you. I was leaving this. I wanted you to come with me. We could hide on some island that nobody knows exist, somewhere where you’ll be safe. We don’t have to be trapped in a war we didn’t sign up for. We could live our own lives. Come with me, please.”

He was broken and lost, and scared of losing me, needing me just like I needed him to keep me together. I was the other broken shard to make his heart whole. His eyes shone with tears that threatened to fall. He was my sanity, my soul, my… other half, and I was losing him. This was always the chasm that threatened to split up. I kissed him with everything I had, trying to hold on to this. Our souls clicked back in place the way they were meant to. I remembered the way he’d held me when Four had almost died for me, the way he got so fierce when he found out Six had hurt me, the way he wanted to take apart the people responsible for giving me nightmares, the way we’d clung to each other through the sickness. I was in love with him; there was never any doubt about it.

I pulled away, crying with him. He made me feel like such a girl, and like that wasn’t really a bad thing. His eyes stared sadly into mine as if fearing this was the end of us, “Please say yes, Nine. I really don’t think I can do this without you, but I can’t stay.”

“And what of the others? You just want up and leave them? It’s not just about us Five! God, I wish it was, but it’s not. Four almost died for me, and I still wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because of it. Do you really think we can just let them die alone and feel okay about that? Feel their scars burn into our ankles while we’re somewhere nice and safe because we decided we didn’t want to be part of a war? Because whether or not we chose to fight, the war goes on. No one’s going to be safe,” I reminded him, feeling like a real jerk for being so harsh with him. The tears were streams now, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe them all away and kiss him until neither one of us could breathe.

“It’s a hopeless war, Nine! No matter what we do, we won’t win. We’re outnumbered, outskilled and outpowered. They took our whole planet down, and their powers were more developed and trained! We’re ten kids without any parents or guardian to teach us. We have no idea what we’re doing, and you think we can just win against such a well-trained army? Damn it, Nine! I’ve seen how they work, and we don’t stand a chance. We’ve been trapped in the middle of a hopeless war since they sent us on that ship! I don’t want to die; I don’t want you to die. Don’t you see? That’s all that will happen on this path. I want to be free from all of this: a life we didn’t choose, a life we had no say in. Saving a whole world?” He laughed hysterically, wiping his eyes. “It’s too much weight to be put on a child’s shoulders, but that’s the kind of place we’re from.”

He shuddered, and I held him tight to my chest. His words made my chest ache; they weighed on me like each was a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the sea. Sandor had to have died for something: all the people we’d lost had to have died for something. I refused to believe it was as hopeless as he had it out to be, and quietly reminded him, “We’re supposed to be even more powerful than the elders before us, and we aren’t children anymore.”

“We aren’t adults, either,” He growled, but didn’t move his head from my chest. “Our destinies were written for us from the moment we were born, and I hate that. They never thought of us as real people, Nine; people who would fall in love, people who would die for a war that can’t be won. We never had a choice. This is mine- saying no to them. I want you to come with me. Make the choice to not become a weapon they so desperately discard. Chose me.”

I don’t say anything, I can’t. How can I tell him that he already means the world to me, but I can’t let anyone else die that I might be able to sigh? He just nods as if I’ve given my response and, with a sad sigh, gets up, leaving me alone with the empty plate. It’s cold without him: cold and lonely, but I don’t get up to follow him.

All of our lives we were trained to continue the fight, partly for survival, but partly to avenge our fallen planet. They never told us it was helpless, but then why would you tell the child you’re raising that? Was he right about them never thinking of us as real people? I’d gotten mad at Sandor one time for that. But our cepans were people as well, and they’d died to keep us safe. I continued fighting for Sandor, for Maddie, for the people I couldn’t remember. I hadn’t met anyone who could make me want to turn my back on that whole life. Five made me want. He made me want to do anything I could just so I could continue to hold him. The question was, could I leave everyone else to their deaths just to be with him? Because that’s what leaving would mean. It would mean feeling the others’ scars burn into my ankle. On the other hand, staying could mean feeling Five’s scar burn into my ankle. It would mean losing my sanity, my other half, my love. I didn’t think I could make it through something like that. I needed Five with every bit of my soul.

“I’m sorry, Sandor, Maddie, Four, Ella… I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the night air, before running after Five.

He’d already left the penthouse. I threw together everything I could, barely taking time to scrawl out a goodbye note. I paused taking the cookie cookbook, caringly, and looked around at my penthouse. This was goodbye to everything. I hope you know what you’re doing, Five, because I’m giving you everything. My eyes were tearing up, but I brushed them roughly aside and flew down the stairs, recklessly.

Outside, it had started raining, but I could care less. In the distance, I could see Five’s silhouette walking alone, hunched shoulders like maybe the world was weighing on him. Seeing him, my whole spirit rose up to the clouds, and I knew I was making the right decision, no matter how bad it was, “Five!”

He turned to look at me, as I ran to him. A tiny smile tugged at his lips as I flew into his arms. This was where I was meant to be, forever and always. I was breathless, and the rain poured over us as I pulled back, taking him. God, he was beautiful, and I crashed our lips together, not caring what anyone who saw us thought. He was all mine. 

I pulled back and rested our foreheads together, “This could possibly be the dumbest thing we’ve ever done.”

“I can’t keep fighting,” he whispered, tugging on one of his straps. He studied me carefully, like this might not be real, and I was just saying some elaborate goodbye before leaving him on his own. After everything we’d been through, how could I just let him leave like this? I smiled and closed my eyes, trying to tell him without words that this was real, “I know, just promise me a June wedding.”

He laughed, “I’d promise you the sky if I could get it. You’re my world, my everything. I’m leaving for you, even if you never see it that way.”

I pressed my lips gently against his before softly responding against them, “You’re my sanity, my heart, my soul… I can’t leave you either. And maybe we’ll regret this, but we’ll have each other. It would destroy me in a way I don’t think I could get back up from if I lost you. Maybe I won’t ever fully understand why you- why we have to leave, but that’s as close as I’ll get, because you get me in a way that nobody else ever has.” A little grin threaten at my lips, “Besides you almost forgot the cookie cookbook. How could you get by without that?”

He laughed and pulled back, linking our hands. I grinned back at him. My heart wasn’t slowing down. This was the most impulsive I’d ever been, and that was saying a lot, but Five was worth every moment of it. I just hoped we really didn’t regret this, but hand in hand, we ran off into the night like a pair of lost lovers that had finally found their way, which I guess we kind of had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week may be the last week you hear from me for a while. I'll probably be back mid-January.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to post a new chapter every Friday.


End file.
